


The Shirt

by 1insertclevernamehere1



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Smut, clarke steals a shirt, guess from who?, if you can even call it that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2704310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1insertclevernamehere1/pseuds/1insertclevernamehere1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke finds a shirt left behind from laundry and it just happens to be Bellamy's. Bellamy see's her wearing it and has something to say about it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shirt

It all started when Clarke decided to steal one of Bellamy’s shirts. It was just laying out on the rocks, drying from the recent laundry load that was taken down to the river. It lay forgotten, crumpled, and sun bleached past the point of recognizing the old graphic decal that once decorated it on the ark. Clarke paused in her step when she came upon it, staring at the familiar gray color contrasting against the dark black rocks. She held in her hands her own laundry pile, not trusting the community laundry basket for good reasons of her own, and clutched her clothes tight to her chest at the sight. It was just laying there, all alone, abandoned. Clarke sent a quick look around the perimeter and snatched up the smooth cotton fabric in a flash, tucking it into her own clothes without hesitation. _I’ll return it to Bellamy when I’m done here_ , she told herself. _He won’t even know it was missing._

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, Clarke greatly underestimated her own willpower. For days it sat, folded up neatly then promptly thrown into her existing clothes stash, buried underneath her own clothes and blankets. _I wouldn't want it to get lost_ , Clarke said. _I’ll put it where it can be easily found when I can give it back to Bellamy_. Or at least, that was what she told herself.

* * *

 

The problem with putting a shirt in your clothes pile, is,well... _wearing_ it.

It was a cold, brisk morning. The hunting party was out before the sunrise, as per their usual routine. The game was out, grazing on the newly dewed morning grass, as usual. The only unusual thing was the accident.

“Clarke!” Bellamy burst into her tent loudly.

Clarke, who was sleeping soundly on her pallet, scowled and jumped at the sudden interruption of her slumber. “What?!” She snapped, sitting up in bed and throwing the covers off of her body. Clarke had never been a morning person on the ark, and definitely wasn't one on earth.

Bellamy stiffened at the sight of Clarke sitting up in bed and raised an eyebrow. Clarke narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What do you want?” She asked tiredly.

Bellamy looked at the ground and smirked. “Miller needs your help in the med bay, he was shot with an arrow by some greenhorn when we were hunting this morning.” Bellamy paused and looked over Clarke slowly with a smirk. “Whenever you get dressed, of course.” He said nonchalantly, and disappeared as fast as he appeared.

Clarke made a face. _Whenever I get dressed?_ She stiffened and looked over herself slowly. In her rush to fall asleep the night before from her exhausting time in the dropship, and also as a result of her skipped laundry day, she had no clean clothes and had fallen face first into her bed in only her bra and panties. Heat rushed to her cheeks as Clarke got out of bed. Fuming, she grabbed the closest pair of pants and shirt she could reach and let it settle loosely over her body. She stormed out of her tent towards the med bay, cursing Bellamy Blake’s name with every step.

* * *

 

Clarke had noticed the stares during the first few minutes of the surgery. Octavia was her acting nurse for the day, and was certainly acting very unusual, sending her smirks one minute and a worried look the next. Along with the strangled cough Miller had choked out when he had first saw her, Clarke was tense and on edge at the heavy atmosphere.

“Almost done Miller.” Clarke muttered. “Just a few more stitches.”

“Finally.” Miller groaned. “I cant wait to get off this table and beat that greeny’s ass.”

“You won't be beating anyone for a while.” Clarke warned. “Maybe except your pillow on your week of bedrest”

“A week!”

“At least.” Clarke said. She finished her stitching and cut the wire with a satisfying click. “Octavia, hand me a bandage and some seaweed paste.” Miller continued to groan at the new order of bedrest as Clarke applied his wound dressings. He muttered something suspicious and Clarke caught a few words like “Bellamy” and “Sex” and “Shirt.” Clarke froze and raised an eyebrow at Miller. “What did you just say?” She asked slowly.

Miller stiffened and Octavia stifled a laugh underneath her palm. Clarke moved to face Miller as he lay on the table and crouched down to meet his eyes. “Miller?” Clarke questioned.

Miller’s eyes widened and he struggled to avoid Clarke piercing gaze. His words tumbled over themselves and caused a backup in his throat. “I- I didn't say anything-Clarke my b-back hurts-Im sorry-”

“Miller spit it out!”

“Clarke!” Octavia burst out. “You're wearing Bellamy’s shirt!” She giggled.

Clarke let out a strangled sound and looked down at her attire. Sure enough, the faded gray tee hung loosely off her shoulders and pooled around her thighs. “Not that I oppose of course-” Octavia continued.

“Yea, if I had known getting shot in the back would bring you too together I would've done it weeks ago-” Miller sassed.

“We are not together!” Clarke stood up.

Octavia shrugged. “You _are_ wearing his shirt.” She said with a smile.

“And you have sex hair.” Miller said dryly.

Clarke angrily grabbed a strand of her hair and inspected it.“This is just my hair!” Clarke shouted.

“Thats what they all say-”

“Arruhhhggg!” Clarke threw up her hands and groaned. She started toward the exit in a huff. “Were not together!” She sent over her shoulder. Accompanying giggles and laughter sounded at her back as she stormed off.

* * *

 

_Stupid Miller. Stupid Octavia. Stupid Bellamy Blake with his stupid shirt and his stupid face…_ Clarke traveled along the wall closely as she hurried back to her tent to change, all the while cursing her unfortunate luck and her annoying friends. _It was dark! It just happened to be the first thing my hand touched so I threw it on and ran out! Auhg! Why did it have to be that shirt?_

Fortunately, it was still in the early morning so the camp was still drowsily stumbling out of their tents and planting themselves by the fire. Clarke stayed in the shadows to assure that no one had the chance of spotting her. She was feeling more and more relieved as she drew closer to her tent. Until she was found.

“How’s Miller doing?”

Clarke whirled around at the sound of Bellamy’s voice, dangerously close to her. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and put on her best poker face. “He’ll make a full recovery.” She said smoothly. _Where did he come from?_

“Great.” Bellamy said lowly, still walking towards her direction. “I was worried.”

Clarke huffed and took a step back and met the hard exterior of the wall that surrounded the camp. She was trapped between Bellamy and a hard place. She swallowed. “Im sure you were sick with anxiety over him.” She said sarcastically.

“Oh I was.” Bellamy smirked, coming up and invading Clarke’s personal space. She squirmed and he smirked at her obvious discomfort.

“What do you want Bellamy?” Clarke sighed.

Bellamy came up and rested an arm by her head against the wall. Clarke could feel his hot breath on her neck as he bent down to her level and sent a sly smile her direction. Clarke scowled back. “You know,” He began, fingering the soft hem of the large shirt hanging on Clarke’s small frame,” If you wanted to wear my clothes you just had to ask.” He said keeping his mouth dangerously close to hers.

Warmth pooled in Clarke’s stomach as she struggled to gain control of her breathing. “It was an accident.”

Bellamy snaked one arm around Clarke’s waist and pulled her tight against him. “ Thats my favorite shirt.” He breathed. Fingers danced along the edge of the shirt and Clarke’s waistband. “I want it back.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow and splayed her hands on each of Bellamy's hips, pulling him even closer to her. She lifted onto to tip toes and got in his face with a grin. “Take it from me then.” She taunted.

Bellamy lifted her up in a flash and settled her on his hips,capturing her lips with his at the same time. Clarke tangled her hands in his hair as Bellamy rolled his hips against hers slowly, causing Clarke to moan and gasp with breath every time they separated. Bellamy never paused in his actions and dropped a hand to Clarke's hips while his mouth began moving up her neck, making small sucking noises with every breath he took. Clarke’s shirt was soon gone and Bellamy’s followed shortly after, and were crumpled into a ball on the ground next to each other in a heap. Clarke felt Bellamy grow beneath her and she moaned, feeling him everywhere around her, on her lips, her hips, her chest, her-

“Bellamy” Clarke gasped. She loosened her legs around his hips and separated their mouths with a disappointed sigh. “The camp.” She breathed.

Bellamy’s gaze was lit up with fire and his pupils were blown as he stared into her face. After a moment he nodded and set Clarke shakily down on her feet, but didn’t lessen the distance between them. He wordlessly bent over and picked up the shirts and handed one to Clarke for her to put on. “This isnt over Princess.” He warned. “After I get done with my rounds I want to see you in my tent with my shirt on” He pulled her into another kiss, pressing his lips down onto hers harshly and breaking away too soon.

“Only my shirt.” He growled.

* * *

 

Octavia fell back into Miller as she jumped and saw her brother and best friend locked in a passionate embrace against the outer wall of the camp. She sent him a smirk. “You owe me rations.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This has been previously posted on ff.net but I'm transferring all my stories to this account also.
> 
> Tell me what you think??  
> pretty please?


End file.
